


Leaving Marks

by StarkersBazaar



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Light Bondage, Light D/s, M/M, Peter is a little shit in this, Peter is eighteen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Starker, Teasing, but there's definitely less than a cubic centimetre of plot, not that it's really PORN porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkersBazaar/pseuds/StarkersBazaar
Summary: Peter's mouth gets him into trouble with a Very Busy Tony. Despite all his plans, Tony manages to find a few spare moments to remind Peter what happens when he misbehaves.





	Leaving Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt left on one of my Tumblr posts. I liked it more than I expected to, so I wanted to share it here! Enjoy <3

Peter ate his dinner that night standing at the breakfast bar.

At Tony’s invitation, several of the team had gathered at the facility for a meal and an informal meeting. They surrounded the long countertop of the bar, talking jovially and catching each other up on recent events. Peter had taken position at the far end of the bar, leaning against the countertop as he ate and listened, joining in when he saw space to do so, but otherwise just enjoying feeling like part of the group.

Earlier on, Steve had kindly offered him a stool, but Peter, whose ass was screaming raw from the events of the afternoon, insisted he was just fine as he was. Even standing, Peter could feel his skin throbbing. Sitting on a barstool was out of the question. Politely, he had declined Steve’s offer, and out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he had seen Tony smirk.

The conversation was engaging enough, and Peter truly enjoyed the company of his team, but again and again the pain found ways to draw his attention away. His mind wandered as the chatter and laughter of the other Avengers blurred into white noise. He remembered the sounds of hours earlier, the words Tony had breathed heavily against his skin. Like a riptide, the memories yanked Peter’s thoughts from the present and back to Tony Stark’s bedroom, hours earlier.

 

*     *     *

 

“Kid, I’ve got about a million and a half things to do before tonight, and _you_ are not one of them.”

Peter pouted, looking up from where he lay sprawled across Tony’s bed.

“But I haven’t seen you in _weeks._ ”

“Well, good news – you’re staying here for the weekend, and we’ll have plenty of time to catch up. But now is not the time.”

“I don’t care about catching up,” Peter said, watching Tony’s reflection in the large mirror across from the foot of the bed. Tony paused tying his tie and raised his eyebrows at Peter’s reflection. Peter’s face split into a grin.

“I thought your aunt raised you to respect your elders.”

“I have plenty of respect for the elderly, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey – ”

“I only meant that there’s other things to do besides catching up.”

“I know what you meant.”

“So come _on,_ ” Peter pleaded with a dramatic sigh. He watched Tony’s reflection ignoring him, adjusting his tie before turning attention to his cuffs. Peter sighed again, louder, not looking away from Tony for a moment.

_Alright, then. Fine._

Peter, who had been thinking about this afternoon for the weeks since he’d last seen Tony, playing it out in a laundry list of ways, was intent on getting his way. He began to run a hand over his torso, eyes still locked on Tony’s reflection. He slid his fingers inside the bottom hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up, exposing a flash of pale skin. He trailed his fingertips over his stomach.

“Come _on_ , Iron Man,” he said with a smirk, raising his eyebrows in an expression of put-on innocence as Tony finally turned to face Peter. The younger man looked him up and down, taking his lower lip between his teeth.

“You look really good…for an old guy,” Peter teased, letting his hand trail lower, slipping into the waist of his jeans.

“Hey. You. Cut it out. I’ve said it twice now.”

“Then say it three times, or do something about it.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up once again.

“What was that?”

“You heard me.” Peter grinned. He was getting a rise out of Tony, _finally._ His skin flushed with excitement at the familiar shadow that crossed Tony’s gaze.

“I’m gonna need you to behave.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then make me.”

Oh, those words. Those magic words, the ace up Peter’s sleeve when he wanted to get a distracted Tony’s attention. Sure enough, like they always did, the words pulled Tony from his rigid schedule over to Peter’s. The older man stepped toward the bed, wetting his lips.

“You sure you want that?”

Peter nodded, feeling a rush at the sight of Tony shedding his composure.

“Hands off,” Tony demanded, nodding toward Peter’s jeans. Peter shook his head, rubbing his hardening cock with his hand. He reached with the other to tug the hem of his shirt higher, tracing his fingers lightly over his abdomen.

“Hands… _off,_ ” Tony repeated, his own hands moving to loosen his tie. Peter felt his heart begin to pound, his excitement impossible to conceal.

“You know better than to touch what’s mine without asking.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, without a drop of sincerity. His hands stayed where they were, his right still moving visibly over his cock, beneath his jeans.

When Tony moved on him, Peter let out a vocal breath, a full-body shiver passing through him. He loved it, fucking _loved_ when Tony manhandled him. He slid easily down the bedspread, pulled by the ankles, and then his shoes and socks were gone. His jeans were next, pulled off in a smooth motion. All pretense aside, Peter willingly lifted his arms after Tony pulled him into a sitting position. His t-shirt was thrown to the floor next to the rest of his clothing, and Peter, bare except for his tented boxer shorts, looked up at Tony with pleading eyes.

Tony undid his tie, slipping it out of his shirt collar, and then he snapped his fingers, wordlessly gesturing for Peter to stand and turn around. The younger man did so without hesitation, letting out a short, quiet moan as Tony yanked his boxer shorts down, gripped him around the waist, and pressed his hips firmly into his ass. He could feel Tony’s hardness through his dress pants. Trying his luck, he arched his back, pushing his ass against Tony.

“Mmhmm, I know, baby boy, but we need to go over a couple of things first.”

Peter could hear the material of Tony’s tie between his fingers before he felt it wrapping around his wrist. Tony pulled the younger man’s arm behind his back, and then the other, and in seconds his wrists were bound.

Tony slid his hand around to Peter’s front then, wrapping it around his cock. The other hand held the boy’s hip like a vise.

“Whose is this?”

Peter’s breaths came faster now, and he squeezed his eyes shut as Tony gave him a firm stroke.

“Yours.”

“And whose is this?” Tony asked, reaching back to grab a handful of Peter’s ass, squeezing hard.

“Ah! Y-yours.”

“Good boy,” Tony purred. When he reached up to take a fistful of the younger man’s hair, Peter couldn’t help the needy sound that escaped his lips. He felt his head pulled back, exposing his neck to Tony’s mouth. The older man wasted no time pressing his lips to Peter’s skin. His breath was hot and rapid, sending a thrill through the younger man.

“Who do you belong to?”

Peter could hardly focus on the question, lost instead in the feel of Tony’s tongue against his neck, the scraping of his teeth against his skin. But after a firm tug of the younger man’s hair, he found the response his mentor sought.

“Tony Stark.”

“On the bed.”

Peter felt the weight of Tony behind him, pushing him up against the bed’s edge. He climbed onto the mattress, and not a second later, Tony had him bent over, ass in the air, his cheek pressed to the mattress. He felt his cock twitch as Tony kneaded his ass with both his hands.

“And what does Tony Stark do to boys who don’t behave?”

“Punishes them.”

“Mmhmm. I’m sorry to say, this is gonna leave a mark.”

The first loud _thwack_ of Tony’s hand against Peter’s bare ass was almost more of a shock to the boy than the sensation itself. He barely had time to process the perfect stinging before Tony’s hand landed again, and again, and again. Each slap was met with a cry from Peter, tears springing to his eyes as Tony continued on, minute after minute.

When it seemed as though Tony had tired himself out, Peter, face wet with tears, tried from his awkward position to catch a glimpse of the older man. His excitement hadn’t lessened, and he desperately wanted an idea of where they were headed next. His ass ached, and his unattended cock throbbed. But the moment he raised a shoulder off the mattress, he felt Tony’s firm grip force it back down.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” he asked, and Peter knew he was being baited. He was in the most perfect pain, his skin raw, but he knew he could take more. He wanted to. He shook his head, his hair rustling against the bedspread.

“I didn’t think so.”

The familiar but hard-to-place sounds that followed Tony’s words piqued Peter’s interest. It was a series of delicate but distinctly mechanical clinks and whirrs that Peter knew he had heard before. The flash of red and silver as Tony reached around to wipe away the tears on Peter’s cheek answered his question before he dared open his mouth to ask. Though Tony’s fingertips were free to brush against Peter’s skin, the rest of his hand was fully encased in an iron gauntlet.

“But,” Tony continued, running the cold metal over Peter’s ass, “I think you’re about to.”

 

*     *     *

 

“Hey, Parker. What’s on your mind, kid?”

Peter snapped back to reality, looking across the counter at Steve.

“Oh! Hey. Uh. N-nothing.”

“You alright?”

Peter looked down the length of the counter at the faces of his friends, regarding him with amusement.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, no, was just zoning out.”

“Look like you zoned into another dimension,” Sam joked. Peter laughed.

“Hey, leave the kid alone,” Tony said, shooting Peter a grin. “He’s young. He’s allowed to zone out while the old folks talk shop.”

“He’s a part of the shop now, Stark. Can’t give him a free pass just 'cause he’s the only one of us you actually like.”

“Oh, sure,” Tony went on, “but he’s a junior Avenger. Still got a lot of training to get through, yet. In fact, we’ve got a pretty busy weekend ahead of us, don’t we, Pete?”

Peter met Tony’s eyes, his stomach somersaulting. He hoped the rush he felt didn’t colour his cheeks. He smiled a tight-lipped smile, giving what he was sure was a cool, casual nod.

“Yeah. Yup. Lots of training.”

**Author's Note:**

> starkersbazaar.tumblr.com <3


End file.
